Cinematic Critic
by Faikitty
Summary: Horror movies aren't for everyone, and few people can act like their usual selves while watching them. Hirato/Akari.


A/N: Semi-crack.

I wanted to write something involving scary movies (truth be told, Akari's reaction to them is about the same as mine-love/hate relationship for me), Tsukitachi, and fluff. Also, being doped up on pain pills makes it impossible to write anything more serious than this. Enjoy.

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The doctor of the 2nd Ship is _not_ a fan of scary movies. He can't imagine why anyone would find them enjoyable. They aren't actually frightening; they rely only on tension and surprise to shock their viewers. Even worse are slasher films. _Those_ are an insult to both cinema and the human body, and Akari has seen more than enough traumatic injuries for fake gore not to faze him at all.

He would never watch a movie like this on his own, not for fear of it scaring him but because such films are just distasteful. Hell, he would never watch them period if not for a certain pair of Circus captain coercing him into watching with them under a mixture of a blackmail and flirtation. Spending his night sitting on a couch between Tsukitachi and Hirato is far from his idea of a good time.

And Akari is _not _afraid. So why do the scenes playing on the screen before him make him so uncomfortable then? Why does he cringe at the screams of the victims? Why does his body grow so tense with anticipation as the music slows and darkness sets in?

He can recall reading somewhere that those most susceptible to horror are the ones who don't believe, but he refuses to allow himself to be in that category.

"Are you frightened, doctor?" Hirato whispers into his ear. His breath is warm as it rustles the other man's hair, but Akari shivers nonetheless. "Your fingers are trembling."

"Nonsense," Akari scoffs, his voice and expression betraying nothing. "Why would I be afraid of something like this? Such a movie is nothing but a tiring waste of time." But he doesn't put up a fight when Hirato's hand finds its way around his own, and the pallor of his face is visible even in the dim light of the television.

Akari starts and leans into Hirato as Tsukitachi stretches his long limbs and stands. The red haired man had been so quiet for once that Akari had nearly forgotten he was there. "Bathroom," he mumbles with a yawn. He wanders out of the room, and the doctor wonders how he could possibly fall asleep during a movie, especially one _he_ was so adamant on watching.

His brief moment of wondering is ended by a loud slam from the television, and Akari jumps again, unaware that he's still resting against Hirato until he feels the other man's body shake as he laughs. "Not scared? Are you sure?" Hirato asks with a smirk, and he detangles his fingers from Akari to reach out and touch his hair.

Akari slides away to the other end of the sofa where Tsukitachi had originally sat. "I told you before, I'm fine," he says through gritted teeth. Hirato raises his hands in defense and turns to watch the movie, his face amused and not frightened in the slightest.

The doctor is used to seeing people's knuckles turn white as they grip the sides of the waiting room chairs in fear, his profession being one that makes many people nervous. What he's not used to seeing is his own knuckles turn that color, his nails digging into the soft cushion of the armrest. When daytime comes in the movie, his whole being relaxes and sinks into the couch, and night in the film comes once again much, much too soon. His body goes still and rigid as the scene playing out before him fills him with anticipation—not _fear_, it isn't fear, _definitely not fear_.

The light is too small. The area beyond is too large. Akari's eyes are drawn to the back of the room in the film, where he's positive something will appear, since even in horror films, the doctor is calculating and quick to figure out the situation. The music stops; the only sound is the heavy and frightened breathing of the man in the movie. Even Akari's lungs seem to have stopped working, his breath caught in his throat as his eyes

Long, sinewy fingers grab Akari's shoulders. A low voice, akin to metal scraping metal, growls his name in his ear, and the doctor's eyes widen.

The sound that escapes Akari is decidedly unmanly _and_ frightened, an odd cross between a yelp and a strangled scream. The motion he makes is even less manly and more terrified. He crosses the distance between him and Hirato within milliseconds, seeming to shrink into a ball and pressing up against the other man with his knees drawn up to his chest and his eye squeezed tightly shut. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have been braced to fight. However, these were _far_ from ordinary.

Hirato wraps his arms around the doctor and pulls him even closer, placing a soft, reassuring kiss on his head before resting his chin on his shoulder. "While I don't mind you using me a security blanket…" Hirato trails off as Akari stiffens against him, and it's almost too much fun to ruin the game so soon. "I think you should know that that wasn't a ghost or a demon."

When Akari peels his eyes open once more, he sees Tsukitachi seated next to him, calmly drinking a soda with a hand covered by a glove belonging to one of Circus's demon costumes. Setting down the drink, Tsukitachi clicks the claws of the glove together and grins. "Hello, Akari-chan," Tsukitachi growls in the same voice as before, and Akari swears he can see red tinged around the edge of his vision.

Showing any kind of true anger would be providing the captains with too much satisfaction, so Akari straightens up and resigns himself to watching the remainder of the movie in peace while formulating revenge in his mind.

Still, he can't _quite_ bring himself to move the extra few inches back to his original position, and his shoulder still rests against Hirato's until the film is over.


End file.
